Author: gogal

Before I start to share my thoughts about the book, I must confess how I decided to judge the author, her way of life and obviously her writing. Three Thousand Stitches especially is not a work of fantasy or fiction. It is a lexical documentary of reality that throws light on all the right things a person should focus on, in their life. It is the much-needed Neo-Bible that this world needs right now.

Ms. Murthy is one lucky, intelligent and an extremely compassionate person. I am usually conscious of the adjectives I use to describe someone because it is easy to get sidetracked. As much as I hate character assassination, I am also against pompous and clichéd profile description or a narrative. This is exactly why the ‘Three Thousand Stitches’ that she put together is a must-read for a lot of reasons – Simple and powerful narrative!

Her experience has been rich and diverse with life lessons and that is why she is lucky. I find her intelligent because she has used these experiences as stepping-stones and decided to refine herself to become a better person, with each passing day. As far as compassion goes, whenever she was offered a choice, she chose kindness and simplicity. This particular trait is remarkable and all-pervasive in the book because, the situations rise up to an anguishing volcano that she has annealed with her compassion in every opportunity and difficulty – An invaluable lesson. She was happy with the choices she made and she made the choices, happy ones. She redefined her life choices and also stood by what she chose.

This book is an extension of her choices. It is a statement and a standing testimony of her compassion because doing good does not suffice. The ultimate joy is in spreading your happiness and joy. She urges the people of this world to experience this joy of being human. Spreading this thought and making this a world a better place to live in, is a duty we are all bound to carry out as a mission, uncalled for. This reminds me of the famous thirumanthiram (The Thirumantiram is a Tamil poetic work written in the fifth century by Thirumular that strongly emphasizes on Love is God).

“யாம் பெற்ற இன்பம் பெருக இவ்வையகம்”

“Let me share with this world, the joy I found”

For upcoming writers out there, she has a splendid tone of mastery and narration. Be it the Raas Leela of Shri Krishna (where I was transported to the banks of Yamuna watching the whole scene objectively) or the airport adventure, Sudha’s writing captivates you by the eye. It did sink a bit inside of me when the gopikas and Krishna were unaware of my presence in their world while I was lost into their interplay. For a moment, I questioned if I were being subjective or objective. I do not know if there is any other answer to this question except that it is the power of great storytelling that Sudha aces along.

I am glad my friend chose this book for me. I am glad the book chose me. I am glad I made the choice to read this book. Every stitch was a conscious choice to be right. Choices. Don’t miss to see! Don’t miss to read!

I need a notebook right now. Like now. Before I forget what’s on my mind, I gotta jot it down. I will get back to it later, when I am more inspired and fill it in. I will then give it a closure and wrap it up. Ok, now where is the notebook? Isn’t there one empty notebook in this house? Empty pages are all of what I see when I walk around looking for practically anything in this house. Just like Murphy’s, I would not find that ‘always seen’ notebook when I am looking for it. There it is!

This book has seen a lot. Are you confused? Please don’t be. I know why it sounds funny that I call an empty notebook to have seen a lot. I will tell you why, in just a little bit.

The first time I picked this notebook, I got it in a desperate mood. I felt like there was an indispensable place and need for this book because I was stepping into the next learning curve at work. So I had this rush to take notes. A lot of notes. That’s how this notebook became mine to keep. I needed it so badly back then, that it has been lying unused for over three months now, obviously because I had gotten it for an immediate purpose. Genius move.

By the way, this is not the first page of this notebook. But I did note few points that were part of my ‘learning curve’ lessons. I guess I worked too flat for the curve to happen. It will eventually happen. Somehow I didn’t persist. Rather I didn’t need this notebook, maybe?! The reason I think so is because, those notes were never looked into after. But the notebook was really needed you know?! That’s because I joined a class soon after.

Is there any classroom learning that can go on without notes? So yes, this class also called for a systematic note-taking as a proof of my sincerity and attention (deficit). This human’s heart was inflated by the contentment of this human’s mind and its resourceful abilities. How smart is my brain to have quickly figure out that this learning curve did not demand any amount of note-taking! So the TPU (top processing unit) decided to assign these empty pages of memory to a new algorithm (class of learning) that began joyfully. Ok, turning off my engineer brain until further need. Saves up a lot of energy, you know!

Back to the new class. First session was over. After my first class, I excitedly flutter the empty pages of just not too new notebook, and my teacher’s painted eyes stared from between the spectacles that skied down his nose, and the furry brows. For a moment, the 90s Onida TV ad demon brows put me on a freeze mode. The teacher wanted me to do some ‘memory job’ and not scribble away every word. “BHOOK!!!!!!!!!” sighed the notebook as I closed it. Sigh!

Now what’s with this notebook and giving up? Everytime I tried to use it . . . Ok, both the times I tried, I hardly wrote 20 letters. But today is going to be different.

I want to start a journal. A health journal. One on my fitness and all of the communication that I have with my body. I believe that human body is the most complicated scientific system in this world. Smart, efficient, adaptable, unique, and most of all, self-healing! How much of it do we respect and reciprocate? None of man-made systems have surpassed, replicated, mimicked or even come close to this wonder. It keeps communicating so well, and so often in a day. I don’t mean to be pessimistic about mankind’s capabilities or achievements. But I like to be practical about the fact that we are getting towards isolating the organs and mimicking their functioning when it is a system and that is what inspires us more.

So, I have decided to log about this incessant and eternal verbal and non-verbal communication that I have with my body. So this notebook is going to be a personal health journal. Not silent and empty anymore. And I hope it makes sense now, as to why I claimed this notebook to have seen a lot before. Before a notebook sees the words of a writer, the empty pages go in hiding, waiting to be touched and taught. And all this while, it watches out for the writer’s unstoppable thoughts. There is a lot of noise that dissolves in between the cover of a notebook and its spine. Until a writer walks past the writer’s block, the empty pages see through a lot of cacophony in the writer’s head. It is like the uterus of a carrying mother.

Well, this is the first time I have crossed the 20 letter mark on the pages of this notebook. More hope. More thoughts. More words . . . More . . . Less is more . . .

What would have Rose gone through after Jack died drowning? What kept her alive all the years amidst such a tragic love during the formative years of her life? But what if Jack tried to protect her by deception? What would have happened if Jack knew his impending death and gathered all of his balls to lie about the vacuum of hate for her? A thought experiment.

She sat by the dusky stone bench and thought of that night when he had drowned after speaking out all of his heart. All of his hate. All of what he had meticulously coated on just to make her believe the unbelievable. But she was smart, he thought. Was she? The water in her eyes drowned him down more than the drunk ocean.

Will it be today? At least? How much longer should I endure this before I know this is the last? Why can’t I want this to be my last breath? Why don’t people see that depression is real? Depression is the unwanted meal you stare at, on a long day. Depression is the uncalled sleep that pulls you away. Depression is real. Tonight is the night. Or is today the day? The D-day? Depressing day. Everyday. It is all coming down on me. I know my PMSes kill me. I know he kills me too. But it cant take away what he means to me. It cant alter what I have for him even if it does not happen. It is intense. It is pure. It is pristine like a drop of rain. When I look at the blue ocean bed, I am reminded of him. The transparency, the openness, that clarity, I think that is him in my mind. What I have for him, is as pure as the first DNA copy of an unborn child. It cannot be touched, moved, altered or influenced physically. But it can be destroyed by internal fire. It can create a whole new beautiful being. It is the pearl of life – the tiniest Might. The unborn knight. The unspoken truth. The untouched drop of rain. The unbroken promise. And the unparalleled lullaby. The first light of life begins in the dark. The first cloud of darkness brings light.

Everyday means a new beginning to this deceitful world. But I am smart. Because I know the truth. I know that everyday is not a beginning. It is the gateway to the end. It is the last opportunity for my breath. It is the last of all that I want it to be. Why should I really pursue this darkness? Why should it really be pursued if the dark clouds love me so much? I loved it back too. But the clouds dint seem to be moved by my true love. They seemed to enjoy it instead. That is not why I loved them. I loved them so they wouldn’t stay. I loved them so they wouldn’t torment me with more downpour! They chose me instead. This cats and dogs of downpour is just too much to take. I know this is the last sight of this view that I can get. All of me is already drenched and decayed in the pool of tormented downpour that is flooding me from those lovely dark clouds. Oh so not lovely you cloudy! Now I am telling you I hate you. Just go away! Just don’t shower me anymore of those pristine drops! You don’t seem dark just on the outside. You seem to organically cook your darkness to make some dingy heavy and blotted drops. And I don’t love them cloudy. Oh so please keep your blots away from me. Why do you keep my sight yet after all this downpour? Are you enjoying my stares at you? Can’t you see I want to not see you? Like he wants me out? Either swallow me or get away from me? What do you enjoy from holding me up in your throat all alive? Don’t you want to let go of me? Do you? Will you?
So what if life beats me down? Why can’t you shine up and show me the way like a melting pot of golden sunset? Yes light is not always just sunrise. Sunset is light too, for it paves the way to endurance. If you want to hold me up for longer, let me tell you, I want to end it all.

As the water near her feet receded, she looked up at the clouds once again pleadingly. And she wept. And she was drowned up to her nose yet again. And the thunder roared ‘NOT TODAY. Just ONE MORE DAY’. Everyday.

This post is a submission to ‘The Chennai Blogger’s Club’s photo prompt.

If you are a fan of ‘THE HINDU’ or NYT, and appreciate the Open-Ed columns in newspapers and online media, then this could be your book. Remember it gives the feel of 400+ pages of newspaper articles. It does give the feel of a curated article collection but it is not. The author has documented a lot of his travels around the world, and has travelled a lot to document the world. It should have been enriching and overwhelming to observe and narrate all that, that today’s world is about. Every page demonstrates this euphoria.

Engineers and tech-freaks would envy the author for he has met up with the big shots of this century who are in the realm of corporate business and science and technology. This is to understand how they decided to see this world as a bank of opportunities amidst blood and wars. The author has grasped all of this donning the journalist hat, and published pages and pages of awe for the speed and passion that pervades the planet. And the message is calm and clandestine – Optimism, power of writing and opportunism. Opportunism is not bad after all, when channelized to solve world problems.

And so it seems that some of the awe has turned into pages and pages of rant as the book approaches its end. But to give him the benefit of doubt, what would be a good way to end a book on contemporary world? It just doesn’t end, right? I think that should have been the struggle. In an effort to appreciate and demonstrate his inspiration from biomimetics, the author tries to take a metaphorical approach towards “what can we learn from the existing systems?”. This part of the book is called the drag factor.

This is where the author does not only unpeel the banana, but also grabs the stick, to push it down the reader’s throat (That’s right, it’s choky and saturating). Apart from this part, the book is neat. No. I wouldn’t hate bananas altogether. Think about it – that wouldn’t be a wise decision. Hasty, yes. Wise? NO. You regret complaining about a good book. This is really worse than not liking a book. For aspiring bloggers and content creators, this chapter gives a valuable lesson on KISS – Keep It Simple Stupid. Brevity is the soul of wit – truly!

This book is a mini time-capsule for everyone who wants a bird’s eye-view of “So! What’s up in the world?!” I’d recommend it for the back-story of all the successful people who make us think that it was easy for them. What we underestimate or sometimes don’t even care to wonder, goes behind the scenes. But the truth is, a lot of those scenes and bloopers has made ordinary minds to come out with extraordinary ideas that has made this world a better place to live in. Isn’t that reason enough to tolerate the climax drag? To pause, stop, to look around and see how much has changed, and how well it can be used for one’s betterment, is the best takeaway from “Thank You For Being Late”. Well, better late than never!

Stress could be diverse. Stress has several causes. But one of the reasons for stress is universal. And what could that reason be? It is simply not enjoying what you do, on a regular basis. If this reason is universal, why is work considered stressful? Because you may want to argue that there are a lot of variables involved with the choice of profession, starting from family background, nature of job, work shifts, financial security, and personal setbacks in life. But before you come up with your excuses (yes, that’s what I would like to address them as, for now), think again. Innately, it just means that you do not give yourself a good company at work, and while you work. Now, what does that mean?

A country can only have one leader at a time. The lack of attention to detail from thousands of dreamers, hundreds of aspirants, and a handful of candidates to one facet of their dream, is the trump (duh!) card that the winning candidate flipped to his/her favor. During the tenure of that leader, every other potential leader, lives through with hard-hitting lessons and strategies that their dream recently taught them. As long as the lessons remain reinforcing, their dream is alive. The moment they allow pressure to seep in, their dream boat starts to sink. They go back to work, and give a little bit lesser of themselves to work, than the previous day. In the race between mounting pressure and reinforced lessons, mind falters in a jiffy and you tend to give in to pressure. You love your dream. But your love for that work towards your dream is a little less than yesterday. A lot of these littles, make it big. Every drop counts. Because it drops. To those who think that you are positively passionate and will never love it any less, way to go. That’s the intent. But wanting to get there, and getting there, are two very different challenges.

So what’s the point? Love yourself a little more with each passing day, because when a bad day happens, it does not guarantee to take just a little away from you everyday. What gets taken away, always seems bigger than what you gathered to avoid the mishap. Give yourself a good company at whatever you do. Add some spice, and liven it up. It’s inexplicable to understand, and measure the rewards of enthusiasm. You never know how rewarding your enthusiasm could be. So the best approach is to give a little more than before. This way, what you lose remains insignificant in comparison to your unfathomable endurance, grit and passion. The more you possess, the less you could give. Yes, it is a strange math.

Your first best should be your-self! Most needed friend . . .
Pingback – A Friend in Need

It’s tough. To draw the line.
To walk ahead. Without a stick to cut the depth!
What if I fall into something deep? What if I assume it to be shallow and lose sight of light?
Allow me some space. To anticipate the terrain.
And then you will watch me walk and explore!

The absence of light alone does not make it dark. Ceding on your trail does.
Denial of hope. That is darkness.
Bruises. That’s not dark. Excuses. Fears. Doubts. And a delirium of disbelief – That’s too dark!
Lack of faith in yourself? – yeah, a bit dark.
But what’s pitch dark, is to close your eyes away from your own light!

Allow me some space for me to discover my light.
Allow me my space.
It’s not a blame game. Pointing fingers don’t do any good, ever.
Rather, holding them does. Hold them to tread the path.
It rewards us with a beautiful landscape and breathtaking views, of ourselves!